


You Coulda Done Better, But I Don't Mind

by ThyDeviousViolet



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Drinking & Talking, Everyone has an Ellie finds out about the fireflies story and this is finally mine, Explicit Language, F/M, I'm literally just rambling about life in Jackson, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24082504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThyDeviousViolet/pseuds/ThyDeviousViolet
Summary: Fifteen is the worst. It doesn't help that Joel's a liar. It's complicated.
Relationships: Ellie & Joel (The Last of Us)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	You Coulda Done Better, But I Don't Mind

Fifteen is the fucking worst.

Maybe it’s always been this way. It’s not like I have enough memory of before to know the difference. But to these people, here in Jackson, I’ve either seen too much or too little. 

Half condescending, half fearful. 

Sometimes people are both. I don’t know how the fuck they expect me to act going back and forth all the time. It’s not like I have a template here. Whatever example they expect me to live up to isn’t clearly communicated. Am I just supposed to inherently know how to interact with people when it’s just been me and Joel the last year? I don’t know if that makes me incompetent, or just… human.

Sometimes, I barely even feel that. 

“People just don’t know what to think, yet. Give em’ some time,” Tommy had urged. 

The community says I’m not old enough to hunt or patrol, but Maria and Joel say it’s fine. They all bitch back and forth at the town meeting. Tommy’s pretty much done his best to stay out of things where I’m involved. I don’t know if that’s because of his wife or his brother. But, it’s something I’ve noticed. I was excited when I got the final word that I was allowed to participate. Something I actually know how to fucking do…one of the few skills I’ve mastered. Then, when I show up to said patrol, I’m treated like I have a second head or something. No one really says much. I get a lot of side eye. Sure, they’re polite when they have to be. But, it kinda hurts.

It’s not like I care so much about fitting in. I just…wanna know what I’m doing is right. 

Joel says you have to learn how to depend on people out here. And, I don’t think I’m doing too great a job on that one. Granted, Joel says I’m doing “fine". But, everything is just “fine” to him these days. He keeps to himself, but he’s got Tommy and Maria and fucking decades more experience to vouch for him. He walks into town and his body just speaks for itself. He’s a grown man for god’s sakes, the big-bad Joel. He likes that persona. People avoiding him is just what he wants. 

Me? Not so much. 

I’m struggling, and he’s just living his life like it’s all going to plan. He’s been distant since we got here.

Maybe this is who he really is, when he’s not escorting a teenage girl across the country. Maybe I don’t know him as well as I thought. There’s this whole unspoken thing about the Fireflies. Well, we spoke on it briefly, but my bullshit meter was going off the charts. I had literally one cause…and then I wake up in the backseat of a truck…and he tells me it’s all over. Now, I’m just stuck.

And now, he just seems so…un-Joel. It’s really fucking frustrating. 

I’m lost. 

* * *

**11:30am**

It’s weird waking up to a clock. Back in Boston, our days were planned bit by bit. On the road with Joel, we woke up at the crack of dawn and stopped when it was safe.

Now, I just…float along. And, apparently I’m not really a morning person if I don’t have a cause. 

I got up to stretch, and I started to walk downstairs. Our house had two small bedrooms upstairs and a half bath. The floors creak, and the paint peels, but it’s ours, I guess. It sort of smells like the forest and an old book all in one. Kind of musty. 

I hated it at first. But, it’s growing on me. Downstairs has a full bathroom, the kitchen, and the living room. It almost felt too roomy. The bigger it felt, the more lonely I got.

Pfft. The asshole is stirring in the kitchen.

“Mornin’,” Joel mumbles, maybe even a little sarcastic. He’s standing at the stove, pushing something around in the frying pan. 

I stare at his back carefully. His posture is…off. It looks like he’s got a stick up his ass. Normally, he looks like he’s got the weight of the world crushing him. I can’t put my finger on it.

He doesn’t look me in the eyes anymore. There’s no trust. I can’t tell if I’ve done something wrong, or if he’s hiding something. Maybe he’s afraid of what I’ll see if I look at him long enough. I know I’m unsettled. 

I never thought I’d feel resentment toward him. Sometimes, I wanna scream.

“Morning,” I finally reply. 

I hear him faintly scoff across the room. For a second, I frown, and think of asking him what that’s all about.

I decide to leave it for now and sit down at the kitchen table. 

It’s this dinky little wooden mess. One of the sides wobbles when we sit down. The chairs are kind of comfortable though. Joel says he’s gonna get around to fixing it soon. But, we’ve been here about two weeks and he’s only taken odd jobs outside the house.

“You just gonna sleep all day? Work to do,” he grumbles, and sits down across from me with a plate of eggs. He briefly throws a slight glance my way, but it’s quick. He eats with his eyes fixed on the food.

I sigh. 

“…there’s patrol, later. I was gonna pick up, if they’ll let me,” I mumble. His eyes glance up at me, a few seconds longer, and he’s gone again. 

“You gotta keep busy,” he adds, kind of accusatory. I almost catch a little annoyance in his voice. Part of me really doesn’t feel like arguing. 

But, his tone pisses me off. 

“They literally cleared me for patrol a few days ago. Everyone and their mother had a fucking opinion about it. I’ve been out there twice and they look at me like I’m just…”

I trail off, and take a deep breath. So annoying. I just woke up and I’m already exhausted. 

“Just keep at it,” he urges, totally flat, and shrugs. 

_Really?_

“That’s fucking easy for you to say,” I fire back, and feel my face grow hot. His eyes greet mine again: they’re pissed, too. He glares at me for a while, jaw clenched. I can’t tell if he’s thinking of what to say or if he’s holding back. I glare back just as long.

Sometimes I wish he’d just blow up at me so we could argue like before and get whatever this is…out of the way. But, he won’t. 

“You been mopin’ around since we got here,” he grumbles, shaking his head. 

I roll my eyes, and get up. This is pointless. I wanna scream or punch something, but that’s kiddy shit. I’m practically begging for him to understand me and he keeps blowing me off.

“Where ya goin’, Ellie?” he adds, a little frustrated. I catch the urgency in his voice. I keep on walking upstairs.

“Ellie?” he calls, louder than before.

Fuck if I’m gonna respond. 

I go up to our room and slam the door. Figure it’s time to get ready and get out of this house for a while. I’d rather be judged by the rest of the town than try and keep doing whatever this dance is with Joel. Maybe he doesn’t want me here at all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

This isn’t how I expected any of this to go. 

Jackson blows.

* * *

**5:30pm**

  
The sun is setting. I’ve been out here on watch for a few hours. Listening to all these grown people ramble senselessly over our walkie-talkies. There’s never any action. 

“See that?” Frank calls over. 

He’s a younger guy, maybe in his 30s. He’d been Tommy’s right hand man until Joel came back. Now they’d kind of been having this weird power struggle. 

Not that Tommy prefers Joel. Personally, they clash; but they know how to work well together. It was easy, and natural. Frank was nice enough, but apparently he’d been the alpha male. Suddenly, Joel shows up and just…exudes alpha. 

The only difference was that Frank wants power, and Joel doesn't give a damn. But, Tommy still values Joel’s input more than the others. Our presence here had changed the dynamic of things.

And, here I am, taking the brunt of apparently fucking everyone's frustration. Ellie the emotional punching bag.

Sometimes I can't tell if he's being a dick on purpose, or if I'm just being sensitive.

“Yup,” I finally reply, and nod my head. 

There was a clicker on the other side of the fence. Guy always got fucking worked up about it when he saw one. It wasn’t all that common here in Jackson from what I’d seen the last few days. I got the sense I’d dealt with these things more than he had. But, he always had this tone like he was the fucking expert in everything. 

I hate being talked down to… I didn’t bust my ass crossing this country just to be treated like a kid. I try and hold my tongue when I can. I’m not good at it.

But, I’m working on it.

“What’s it called?” 

_Is this asshole really quizzing me right now?_

I grit my teeth, and sigh.

“It’s a clicker, dude,” I finally respond. 

He nods to himself, proud. Like he’s taught me something. I just keep watching the horizon, trying not to look like I’m nettled.

_Don’t wanna give this asshole the satisfaction._

“They can’t see, but they can hear. Gotta be careful with those guys. Can rip your neck right-“

“-I’ve seen plenty in the last year. Killed a lot more than you have out here,” I spat.

He raises his eyebrows, and pauses for a moment. There are a few other guys stationed around the fence, but we're all far apart. I hoped they were too far to hear this exchange. I didn’t need anyone else making an opinion about me. 

“We try to teach the kids out here about survival. Try to make sure they’re ready if and when the time comes. I’m not trying to upset you,” he adds. 

“I’ve see more than them. And, I’m not a kid," I grumble. 

He snickers. Because apparently, I'm a joke.

“Well, you aren’t exactly an adult.” 

I couldn’t tell if he believed me, or if he thought I was bullshitting. Regardless, I didn’t appreciate the tone he used. At least Joel knew I was capable. But, it’s not like he was out here to vouch for me. 

I didn’t need defending. I just needed to prove a point.

The clicker kept pacing around and nodding off. It didn’t seem like there were any other infected to follow it. We’d sure waited long enough to see if any came by. I was trying my best to follow everyone else’s lead.

Frank finally raised his rifle to shoot. 

I raised mine, just a little faster, and blew its head off. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Okay, you little shit. Feel better?” he spits.

I smile a little, content with myself.

“I’m done here. Have a good night.”  
  
_Bastard._

* * *

 **7:37pm**

I fall asleep on the couch. 

Apparently, Joel was outside working on something, and I don’t think he saw me come back. I was hoping he wouldn’t so I could get some peace and quiet. Listening to everyone prattle on was exhausting. 

There's a knock at the door. I fly up on my feet, but realize it's friendly. I'm still not used to this kind of thing.

When I open the door, Tommy is standing there, half amused and half suspicious. 

“You and Frank pissin' each other off?” he accuses. 

I roll my eyes.

“Is there any fucking privacy around here? Jeez.”

Tommy chuckles to himself, but turns serious. He searches my face for a minute. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but whatever it is I don’t think he finds it.

“My brother around?” he finally asks, soft. I frown. 

“I think he’s out back,” I mumble, a little unsure. 

“Thought you all were attached at the hip,” he remarks. 

“Things change, I guess…” 

Part of me kinda wants to cry. 

“I was hopin’ we uhh…we could have some privacy?” he adds.

“I’m gonna sleep anyway. He’s all yours,” I nod slowly, and let him inside. He heads off to meet Joel outside.

I feel relief. Hopefully, they can keep each other occupied.

I haven't the foggiest fucking idea what Tommy is all about. Maria is the real boss of this organization. We've all been spending some time together. I like Tommy, but there's this weird way Joel acts around him. It makes me feel like I can't quite relax around him, either. It's clear he means well, but I follow Joel's lead. And, to be honest, he's never really explained their beef to me. Things have looked a little more strained between them now that we're back. It's like decades worth of bullshit is just suddenly growing again, and I'm caught up in it.

Even though I don't know a _thing_ about it. It makes me feel even more unsettled.

I thought Tommy would be relieved to see us. And, he was, at first. But once Joel explained our venture to Salt Lake City, Tommy's been...suspicious. Not that I was _there_ for their talk. I don't know what the hell was said. I hope it's exactly what he'd told _me_. But, the weirder Joel gets, the more I wonder.

Tommy's even pulled me aside when he wasn't looking. I told him what I knew, which isn't much. He sorta looked at me all sad. But, I could tell he believed me.

Now I just have this feeling like it's all gonna hit the fan. There's all this heavy shit just hanging over my head. Maybe that's a "me" problem.

I've been having a real hard time sleeping. I'm exhausted when I'm awake, but when I try to sleep it just won't happen for me. It's like I'm constantly "on", and I can't fucking shut off. I practically jump out of my skin at the smallest stuff. Whether it's a dog barking outside or Joel dropping his tools on accident. I've built up all this adrenaline, and now I've got nowhere to put it. The nightmares are the worst. 

Jeez, I hate the nightmares.

* * *

**12:03am**

I wake up to hear glass breaking. Some muffled voices are talking outside. I get up as fast as I could and walk to the window. 

Joel and Tommy are out back, drinking. They have a fire going and everything.

_You gotta be kidding me._

I start to sneak downstairs. After a minute of lurking around, I find a spot couched down by our cabinet, closest to the back door. I can barely see them just beyond the glass, but it's better than upstairs. My eyes burn, and I try to wipe the sleep away. 

Their voices are muffled.

"It's her birthday..." Joel slurs, and stares at his watch.

_Fuck..._

"I know. You didn't think I just stopped by for small talk, did ya?" Tommy takes another drink.

Joel shrugs. 

“You’re a sad drunk, Joel,” Tommy grumbles, with a shit eating grin on his face. 

“You can leave whenever you want,” Joel reminds him, eyes dark. 

I’d caught it, though.

There's a little bit of a drawl in his voice; took him a little longer to say his words. He's obviously had a few drinks. It's still hard to tell, especially this far away. He isn't messy or carefree. If anything, he looks even more ill-tempered than normal. There's something behind his expression haunting him. Something more than Sarah.

“Why can’t we talk about it, Joel?” Tommy keeps prodding.

Joel rolls his eyes, and sighs.

"Twenty god damn years and you still won't say her name," Tommy adds, getting bold. I wince; I'd learned this lesson the hard way a few months ago.

Joel ignores him and keeps staring into his cup, eyes bloodshot. He's too good at this game. It makes me uneasy to see just how fucking good he is at it. I'm sure I look just as stupid trying to pry info out of him.

It's fueling Tommy, though.

“Hmm? Then you get yourself into this Firefly mess. Gonna take you twenty years to talk about that too? I got a community to protect here, Joel. If they come lookin’-” 

Joel’s gaze turns black.

 _“-Don’t start_ ,” he growls. 

It’s a warning. They keep glaring at each other. Tommy’s posturing, but Joel’s just sitting there, sizing him up, not even blinking. Something about his coolness sends a chill down my spine. 

“You show up here two weeks ago and give us some shit story about how they just gave up. You think I’m fuckin’ stupid? Hell, maybe you do.” 

Joel’s lip is almost curled, like he wants to bare his teeth. It's bizarre. Whatever he’s thinking is scaring the shit out of me. A part of me wants to turn around and ignore this, but it’s compelling. I don’t know what I’ve stumbled on, but I can’t tell if he’s gonna need my help. Tommy probably needs me more, but if Joel’s fighting, I’m on his side. Whether he’s right or wrong. We can scream it out later.

They look like they’re gonna beat the _shit_ out of each other. Tommy’s sloppy. And, maybe Joel is too, but he looks so calculated it’s hard to tell. He’s squared his shoulders, still as stone.

“Lower your god damn voice,” he snarls.

His eyes finally glance toward our bedroom. He suddenly stands, like he’s gonna come check on me to make sure the coast is clear. 

_Oh, so we’re keeping secrets?_

He starts walking toward the back door. As soon as I catch it, I damn near gasp. I all but scamper off through the kitchen to keep him from seeing me.

“Where ya goin’ Joel?” Tommy calls. 

I stop in my tracks. 

Joel does the same outside, hand on the door, and turns to look. He gestures with his index finger, jabbing it at his brother.

“She is _right up there_. You do anythin’ to push her away from me, you’ll regret it. You hear me?” he warns, voice low and calm as ever. 

The threat was there. 

_Speak softly and carry a big stick, huh big guy?_

“You didn’t even tell her the truth. You lied to her like you lied to us.”

Tommy’s voice is accusatory, but knowing. I feel my stomach twist up into my throat. My heart is pretty much beating out of my chest. 

Joel just keeps glowering at him. He doesn’t speak. His eyes search Tommy’s face for a while. Finally, when it seems like he doesn't see what he's looking for, his head falls, and he sighs again. 

Tommy watches him, and then just shakes his head. 

That was enough of an answer for me. I want to puke. The room is spinning and I couldn’t catch my breath. I grip the side of the cabinet and hope for the best. 

_Mother fuck, Joel. I knew it. I knew it…what have you done?_

I want to run outside and kick his ass. Or run away. Both, probably. Maybe Tommy and I could take him. I’m sure he’s got years of pent up frustration ready to spew on his brother.

“You were so inconvenienced at the possibility of her not being yours that you up and pissed away the only hope we had at at gettin’ back to normal,” Tommy pokes.

Something about it sets Joel’s eyes ablaze. 

“No one gave her a choice,” he spits, and throws his thumb back at the direction of the house. 

Tommy's scowling just watching him react, and then he puts his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He looks fed up and practically fucking disgusted. Joel’s eyes look away again. It's the first time I think I've actually seen him look guilty. 

“Tell me you didn’t. Please. _Please_ tell me you didn’t do what I think you’ve done,” Tommy begs.

It was more of a statement than a question. 

_What do you mean, Tommy?_

Joel's staring at him, blank as can be. I get the feeling it's a balls to the wall poker face. I'm literally inching closer, hanging by a thread.

His brow finally furrows, his eyes narrow, and his lip twitches.

“They didn’t give me a choice, neither,” Joel mumbles, breathless.

“God damn it.” 

Joel puts his hands on his hips and starts pacing around the fire. Tommy’s just sitting there, shaking his head. 

"God _damn_ it," he repeats. “How many died?”

Joel holds his breath. He literally freezes on the spot, mid-pace and everything. Eventually he releases it, and just closes his eyes. 

“All of em,” he mouthes, breathy and almost too quiet to be heard.

But, I saw it. I fucking _saw_ it.

Tommy frowns, unconvinced. 

“You couldn’t a got all of em,” he disagrees, maybe even a little bit hopeful. For a second, I feel the same way. 

Joel grunts, and crosses his arms. 

“All of em,” he repeats, more vocal than before. 

Tommy cocks his head to the side and leans in.

“What about Marlene?” he adds, still in denial. 

_Tell me you didn’t…_

Joel just sits there, and shrugs. He can't look his brother in the eyes. His boot starts to toe at a rock in the dirt. My head is spinning so fast I’m wondering if I’m dreaming all of this up. But he’s right there, right in front of me, defending his actions.

It was all for nothing.

“I shoulda taken her,” Tommy accuses, totally pissed at this point.

Joel’s head snaps to attention. For a second he looks almost surprised. I blink, and in that time, he’s lurched across the yard and lunged at Tommy. He grabs him by the collar. “You’d a let them kill her without givin’ her a choice?” he spits, teeth gritted.

Tommy doesn’t fight back, he just takes it. I don’t know if it’s because he can’t, or won’t.

“It wouldn't a' mattered. Your mind was already made up.” 

Tommy’s tearful at this point. Maybe it’s from the alcohol, or the disappointing fact that everything he'd hoped for had been lost. I feel myself tearing up with him, scared and confused. I care less about Joel’s actions and more about his lying. This was what the fuck he’d been hiding. No wonder he couldn’t look me in the eye. He owed me more than that, at the very least an honest explanation. He didn’t get to speak for me, and then keep it hidden away. 

Like I’m some fucking idiot.

“We’re _all we have_. I wasn’t gonna leave her to _die_ , Tommy. Is that what you woulda done?” 

Tommy looks away, a little unsure.

Apparently, that’s the wrong answer. 

Joel snarls, and pushes him hard. Tommy falls back into the dirt. For a second, he looks like he’s gonna argue, and then he’s back on his feet, not holding back anymore. He raises his right hand and lands a quick, solid lick against Joel’s jaw. He reels for a second, bounded back by the force. 

It looks like it hurts like hell. 

Joel blinks it away, and then damn near smiles. There’s a devil teasing at the corner of his lips.

_Shit..._

He kicks Tommy’s legs out from under him, then he’s on him. He’s fucking _on_ him. They both fall into the ground with a big thump. I feel myself panicking. I don’t think he’d kill him, but I also didn’t think he’d kill every god damn Firefly in Salt Lake City. 

Suddenly, I’m running. Tear streaked face and all. 

“Joel. Joel, fucking stop. _Joel_!” I’m screaming. 

My hands are scrambling to grab his shirt. He’s so caught up that he ignores it for a second. And then, he glances back at me.

He stops. Looks surprised. Confused, even. 

Then…slowly, it starts to spread across his face. 

I’ve _also_ never seen fear in his eyes before. But, there it was, right in front of me. Tommy’s looking up at me from the ground. I think I sense some pity. Maybe he’s just stunned. I feel tears prick at my eyes again. I feel so stupid, and childish, but they’re falling more and more and I can’t do any fucking thing about it. Ugly crying, too. Sniffing and huffing and everything.

Joel’s brow furrows. He’s trying to read me. I don't know what else he needs to read given I'm fucking sobbing in front of him. On a dime, he’s gentle again.

“Ellie…honey…” he tries to coddle. 

I start backing away, and I turn around, totally horrified. Crying even uglier, now. So ugly I’m trying to hide it.

“I’m fine. Really,” Tommy calls.

Nice, dude. But I'm not. I am _not_ fucking fine, and I feel myself just losing it.

“ _Fuck you Joel!_ ” I scream.

I slam the door so hard the house shakes. I’m running up the steps, fearful he’s on my heels, because I _know_ him. He’s already right behind me trying to call over my shoulder, and I’m just not hearing it. 

I manage to lock the bathroom door and slam it just in time.

He’s already jiggling the handle.

“Ellie, I ain’t gonna bite. Let’s talk about this. Please.”

I almost can't believe he's got the balls to try this right now. 

I say nothing.

“Baby…please,” he adds, softly. 

I hear him sit down outside the door. I’m just sobbing into my hoodie, at a loss for what else to do. I glance up to see if I can get out the window, but it’s too small for me to fit through. I feel trapped like an animal. I’m damn near hyperventilating. Finally, I put my head between my legs. 

“I ain’t leavin’ until you come out,” he mutters, voice smooth as silk. 

I hate him when he does this. I’m pissed, and he should let me be pissed. But he’s out there cooing and saying sweet shit when he knows I wanna kick his ass. It’s so suffocating. 

* * *

Eventually, the sun started to peak its way through the window. I hadn't fucking slept at all. Now, I just wanted to sleep in a bed or a couch, hell the floor, anywhere. Any sleep to get my mind off all this stuff for a little while. I feel so numb I don't think I can cry anymore, which means it's safe to face him if I have to. 

I tip toe up to the door, and crack it, ever so slightly. 

_Please be asleep, please please please be fucking asleep._

And there he is, back against the railing watching the front of the bathroom door. He's there, bloodshot eyes and a sad little smile. He shrugs a little. I shake my head, completely exhausted.

We’re just staring at each other. 

“I made a mess of things,” he finally mumbles, so soft I almost don’t even hear it. But, I caught it.

He’s a monster, and a liar, and a fucking mad man, but he’s also the best man I know. 

Suddenly, none of it matters. The Fireflies, the lie, the pain. It just doesn't matter.

It’s complicated. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, Mr. Bob Dylan, for the title.
> 
> I don't know if I was attempting stream of consciousness or not. Meh. I need new skills, so I'm trying to practice new things. Thanks for letting me test it out. Joel is a little impulsive here. I think Tommy brings it out in him, and so does the alcohol. I could see him being a testy, sulky hot head with a drink. Or, maybe that's just me.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Case of You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357520) by [olderthanjoel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olderthanjoel/pseuds/olderthanjoel)




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